New: The Sidelines

IT WAS RARE THAT Elliot woke up before I did, but then, Elliot was Elliot. I couldn't really change that - not that I wanted to. He was cute and adorable and easy to tease. I loved that. He was exactly the easy type of prey that a vampire needed. Especially a vampire like me. But even this vampire had his problems. Like when Elliot wakes up before me. .
It means no morning sex. And that just bites.
It also means that Elliot is cranky. Whether or not he'll admit it, he gets pissy when he can't get off when he wakes up. Or if he gets too hot in my pocket, but that's just his excuse to seem normal. We all knew that wasn't the problem. The problem was in his pants.
Pants that I really, really wanted to get into right now.
But that would have to wait. I was in class and sporting a new red hand print on my left cheek for getting frisky this morning when Elliot had been pissed to find I had tricked him into my pocket yet again. He really didn't like waking up in small, dark spaces, but I loved knowing he was as close to me as he could get. If I could carry him around like that all day, I would.
I sighed and scribbled on my paper, trying to care about what the teacher was saying. It just wasn't happening.
I was in deep blood. I'd really pissed Ell off this time trying to "take care of him". . He really hadn't liked it when I'd tried to go down on him. Which sucked balls - literally - since I loved watching him squirm when I did that.
Hell in a handbag, I needed to get Elliot to stop being so violent in the morning. My cheek really hurt, but he wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine.
"Your cheek. . . " Elliot said to me later that day back in our room. He was back to being meek and sweet, blushing as he clutched his books protectively against his chest. Why he wouldn't carry a backpack was beyond me. If he did, I could carry it for him, but he just had to be stubborn.
"What about my cheek?" I asked a little stiffly. I wasn't really mad (I didn't think), but Elliot deserved a little punishment. It was a rare occasion that he got so mad to hit me, but this time, I wasn't in the wrong. That kind of ticked me off.
He bit his lip and I had to stop myself from drooling as he squirmed uncomfortably in his chair by my giant bed. ". . Does. . Um. . . Does it hurt still?"
I was facing the wall away from him. Now that I thought about it, I was rather ticked. He didn't need to hit me for trying to help him relieve himself in the morning. If he hated it so much, he could have just said so. There was no need to resort to violence. Especially at the cost of my face.
"It hurts," I confirmed with just a little satisfaction. Making him worry sometimes was healthy for him since I was normally the one doing that. Elliot hadn't been gay until I'd came along, and the fact that he could drop me like a sack of cold blood for a girl some day was always on my mind. It made me want to hurt him and keep him close at the same time. And it seriously pissed me off.
"I-I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. I felt his hands smack on the bed as he stood. Desperation was in his voice. "I didn't mean to! Taiyo, I really am sorry! Please don't be mad."
I stayed where I was. He needed to learn that, no matter how much I loved him, I wasn't okay with hitting. "Don't you think I'm allowed to be angry? You hit me, after all."
I heard him sniff. Great. Now he was crying. That made me feel awful, but I wasn't going to give in. Not yet, anyway. "I know. B-But you. . ! Y-You took advantage of me again. You know I don't like doing that stuff in the morning. . . "
"Your dick doesn't seem to mind it," I quipped, instantly regretting my words. I closed my eyes and silently cursed myself. Damn my mouth, but, if I was going to be stubborn about this, I might as well see it all the way through. I just had to remind myself that it was for our own good. "From where I was lying down, it seemed to me that you were enjoying yourself immensely."
I could tell that Elliot was trying not to sob, so I gritted my teeth and tried to hold tight to my sanity as he pleaded with me. "P-Please, Taiyo," he cried. "I won't do it again." Deep breath. "I promise. ." Sob. "Don't be mad."
I sighed, angry more at myself for doing this than at him anymore. "Go to sleep, Elliot," I said rather coldly. "I'll see you in the morning."
He sniffed and I could almost see him dragging his sleeve across his reddened face, but I didn't turn to look. He stayed silent for a while before asking hesitantly, ". . . C-Can I sleep in your pocket?"
I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart aching. Just breathe through it, Taiyo. You can get through this. It was for our own good. "No." The rejection came out quiet, but it was firm enough to let Elliot get the picture.
As he cried himself to sleep in the mini, make-shift bed I had made him when he'd first moved in, I wondered how I had gone from wanting to patch things up to wanting him to learn the lesson on his own. . It wasn't like I liked hurting him. Well, not really, anyway. A little torture could be fine and spice things up sometimes, but this wasn't that kind. But, then, it was time he learned that he couldn't get away with everything. I wasn't someone he could drag around because he had pretty, big, green eyes that had the lost-puppy look down to an art form. No way. I was just as sensitive and just as big a worry-wart as everyone else.
As I fell asleep, I had to admit that my cheek didn't hurt so much anymore. Not as much as my heart did, anyway.

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SOMETHING WAS BURNT, I could smell it. It was awful. It smelled like. . . Well, I really didn't know what the hell it smelled like, but it was horrible enough to wake me up. No, wait a second. . . I knew that stench.
I sighed, wincing inwardly. Oh, fuck me sideways, Elliot had cooked. What in all that's good and bloody prompted him to pick up a spatula?
Hesitant, I squinted open my eyes to see Elliot, his eyes red with his glitter-tears and his brown hair messed. His simple shirt and pajama bottoms were stained and burnt from obvious failed attempts to make the heap he dared to call a meal sitting before me on a bed tray.
Sitting up, I dug my fingers into my eyes, waking up. "What's all this?" Where in hell had he found a rose in Winter?
He sniffed, swallowing, his hands fidgeting in his lap as he sat on his knees on the floor next to my bed. He didn't look at me, either. "It's an apology." He sniffed. "I didn't mean to hit you. Honest."
I blinked, then covered my face. Oh, right. The fight. I'd completely forgotten all about it. My cheek hurt a little still and I was sure I'd have a bruise, but if Ell felt bad enough to cook, there was no way I could stay mad. It threw my resolve to teach him a lesson out the window. Besides, I didn't mind being his punching bag some of the time. Especially when it got me perks.
Schooling my features, I said, "So. . . You think making me food will make up for it?" His head shot up and I set the tray on the floor as he gave me a pleading and guilty look. Before he could blink, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him onto the bed, pinning him beneath me. "I'd rather eat you instead."
I smiled as relief filled his eyes, tears soon joining it. "T-Then you forgive me?"
"Hmm. . ." I teased. "Let me think about it." I smirked at him, giving him a quick kiss. "I will on one condition."
He sniffed again. "What condition?"
I leaned down and whispered in his hear, delighted when his face turned crimson, the glitter that always surrounded him going pink. He looked away, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt tightly. "J-Just this once."
Smiling broadly, I whipped my shirt over my head, then grabbed his. "Once is all I need to get you hooked."
As I started to strip my adorable little boyfriend, I realized that if I got woken up like this once in a while, I was willing to take one or two punches. The results far outweighed the consequences.